


Scarlet Fever

by Alchemistofpeace



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dragons, M/M, Modern Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alchemistofpeace/pseuds/Alchemistofpeace





	Scarlet Fever

Combeferre looked up at the sound of the shop door opening. "Hi. Do you have something that treats burns?" The boy who entered said. He was wearing a t-shirt, probably in too much pain to pull a jacket on, and was stocky, curly haired, and bright looking, no older than Combeferre, with a tight lipped smile. He was cradling a badly burnt arm-second degree at least, he thought- against his chest with one gloved hand. Combeferre winced in sympathy.  


"I might. Come with me," He said, gesturing to the store room behind the counter. The boy hopped over the counter almost effortlessly, even with an injured arm. "I'll need to examine it first, so sit down." The boy froze.  


"Examine?" He asked nervously, biting his lip. Combeferre turned around and made a sort of waving motion to comfort him, even as he looked for the book he needed.  


"It won't hurt too much," Combeferre assured hurriedly. "I just need to see how bad it is and if it was caused by magic, because that needs a completely different spell than a fire burn, or a boiling water burn," He noticed the boy inching closer the door with each word he said.  


"Actually, it's not that bad, sorry to waste your time, you look very busy, I'm going to leave now," He said quickly, looking everywhere but at Combeferre. With a flick of his wrist, Combeferre moved the rickety, aged chair behind the boy and waited until he tripped into it before dragging it back in front of the table. The boy's shoulders slumped forward after a few seconds and he reluctantly stuck his arm out. Combeferre gingerly took the arm in his hands, turning it slightly to get a better view. He furrowed his brow in thought. This didn't look like any burn he had ever seen. It extended beyond the boy's elbow and had a strange iridescent shimmer that didn't look like any blister he had ever seen.  


"What kind of spell did this?" He asked. The boy squirmed uncomfortably, looking at the table as if it held the greatest mystery on Earth. Combeferre looked at the burn again, scouring his brain for any medical information that would help him determine the source of the burn. No spell in existence caused burns like this, even if they backfired. Unless it wasn't a spell at all.  


"This wasn't caused by a spell, was it?" Combeferre asked quietly. As soon as he finished talking, his patient burst into a panic.  


"Please don't tell anyone!" He begged. "I-I have money, I'll pay you whatever you want, but I can't let anyone find out, my parents would be so disappointed, they'd be ruined, please don't tell anyone I have a dragon," Combeferre placed his hand over the boy's mouth and put a finger to his lips.  


"Calm down," He said softly. "I'm not going to tell anyone, I promise." He removed his hand from the boy's mouth and he let out a sigh of relief. "Do you really have a dragon?" Combeferre asked, all but bouncing in his seat. The boy nodded in response, a small smile on his face. "Can I see it?" Combeferre asked eagerly.  


"Only if you fix my arm," He answered with a grin.  


"Deal!"

\-----

Courfeyrac was glad he came to this wizard. He was nice, didn't ask too many questions- just his name and if he could see the dragon- and he was cute.  


"I don't have anything specifically for dragon burns," Combeferre said apologetically, as if saying he forgot to boil the kettle for tea. "But I have some pretty powerful spells for magic burns, so that should help somewhat,"  


"Are you sure that's safe?" Courfeyrac asked, dubiously eyeing the books Combeferre hefted onto the table.  


"Positive," Combeferre replied, flipping through a large book and muttering to himself. He focused on one page for a few seconds longer than normal before taking Courfeyrac's hand in his. Courfeyrac worried that wincing would become second nature to him if this continued any longer. "This might feel a bit weird," Combeferre warned him before starting the spell. It didn't feel too bad; a few pricks and tingles, similar to moving his arm when it was still asleep, and then it felt like a sheet of paper was being dragged up and down his arm. Weird, as Combeferre had warned, but not unbearable.  


The sight of skin and muscle regrowing and healing was another matter though. Courfeyrac stared at the wall to his right, firmly choosing to ignore the creepy, slow regrowth of his arm. He liked this wall, he decided. It looked very sturdy and newly painted. He thought it would look nice in a powder blue color, or maybe mint.  


"How old is the dragon?" Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac had never been more thankful for small talk in his life. He thought he would die of boredom looking at that wall.  


"Uhh, it hatched about a week ago, but I've had the egg for like a month. At first I thought it was just a cool rock, 'cause it was only the size of my fist, but as soon as I brought it home it, like, fucktupled in size. I went to sleep and when I woke up, I couldn't pick it up with one hand, and by the end of the week it was bigger than my head." Courfeyrac waved and gestured wildly with his free arm, looking back at Combeferre periodically to make sure he was listening. "It stopped growing around that time, which is good, 'cause my parents were starting to ask questions." Combeferre nodded, though he didn't look up.  


"Do you think it's because of the heat? I think dragon eggs are stunted when left in the cold."  


"Yeah, I read that online." Courfeyrac replied. There was a small pause as both parties tried to think of something to say. "Are you certain the police aren't listening?" Combeferre smiled gently and Courfeyrac felt a joyous sparkle deep within his heart.  


"Yes, I'm certain that my walls don't have ears. I'm all done with your arm but-" Courfeyrac looked down at his arm as soon as he heard the word 'done'. "I couldn't hide the scar." The skin looked like it was covered in a thin, glittery, translucent sheet of paper. Courfeyrac saw that it had a pearlescent shimmer as he moved it in the light.  


"Dude," He breathed. "Dude this is so fucking cool."  


"Yes, it is," Combeferre agreed. "But it's also very noticeable" Courfeyrac's face fell with a small 'oh'. "Wait, wait, wait, I might have something." Combeferre hopped out of his seat and half jogged, half stumbled over himself to get to a set of drawers in the back of the room. He opened and closed drawers seemingly at random before pulling something out with a triumphant 'aha'. He turned around and, with a victorious smile, held up a yellow ribbon. "It's enchanted to hide flaws. It's meant to be worn around your neck, but I should be able to fit it around your arm."  


"Cool. Did you enchant it yourself?" Courfeyrac asked, stretching his arm out as Combeferre walked over.  


"No, I can't do enchantments. Someone sold it to me." Combeferre answered. "A woman came in with a little box and all but threw it at me. After a few months of wearing it continuously, her face was completely devoid of wrinkles, freckles, pockmarks, even hair, even when she took the ribbon off. She came into the shop looking like a doll and, I'll be honest, I almost shit myself." Courfeyrac laughed as Combeferre patted his arm. "Alright, that looks secure and inconspicuous." Courfeyrac looked down and rubbed his hand up and down his arm.  


"Wow, that is bizarre. No freckles or hair! I don't even recognize my arm anymore!" He held his arm up to his face and glared at it. "What secrets are you hiding, you fucking communist." Combeferre let out a puff of air that quickly developed into a clear, full-bodied laugh. Genuine but shy, he closed his eyes and covered his mouth and leaned over a little and he looked beautiful.  


 _'Well, shit,'_ Courfeyrac thought as he had a sudden realization. Before he could think more about it, Combeferre began to speak.  


"So, how big is the dragon? How fast did it grow? How much does it eat?" Combeferre asked. "Do-" Courfeyrac put his hand over Combeferre's mouth.  


"Chill." He said, removing his hand. "When she hatched, she was about the size of a cat and now she's the size of a small horse, so make of that what you will, and she probably doesn't eat enough, I can't get as much meat stuff as she needs without my moms getting suspicious and meddle-y." Courfeyrac stood up. "Come on, you want to see the dragon right?" Combeferre shot up out of his chair.  


"Yes! Let's see the dragon!" He exclaimed. He almost sprinted out of the storeroom and out of the store, flipping the sign to closed and bouncing happily just outside. He reached back inside to grab his coat off the rack after a second. Courfeyrac admired his enthusiasm as he jogged outside to join him. Courfeyrac gestured for him to follow him and led him to the bus stop.

\-----

"We're almost there," Courfeyrac said after fifteen minutes of walking through a suburban neighborhood that wouldn't look out of place in a 1950s era real estate magazine, all perfect lawns and quaint homes. "This is my street." Combeferre was glad Courfeyrac's house was so far away from the bus stop. It gave them a chance to talk and get to know one another, even if Combeferre kept bringing dragons up every three minutes. Several times he felt obnoxious and weirdly obsessed, but Courfeyrac was very accommodating and non-judgement about it, which Combeferre was glad for. He was sure anyone else would be giving him weird looks and slowly inching away from him.  


"Would you mind linking arms with me?" Courfeyrac asked, a charming but apologetic smile on his face. "If we look like we just hooked up or something, my moms will be much less suspicious and less likely to snoop around in my room, you know?"  


"Sure," Combeferre replied with a small smile. He linked arms with him and tried to calm his own rapid heartbeat. Courfeyrac turned them into the driveway of a house three times larger than the others. Combeferre saw a swingset and sandbox in the backyard, but no traces of a dragon. Courfeyrac opened the door and walked in.  


"I'm hoooooomme!" He called.  


"Hellooo, did you have a nice trip to the library?" A middle aged Asian woman looked up from her laptop. "Oooh, who's this?"  


"This is Combeferre," Courfeyrac said, gesturing to Combeferre. He then gestured back to the woman. "Combeferre, this is my mother, Suzette Lu." Suzette put her laptop beside her on the couch and stood up, striding toward the two of them. She stopped just outside of arm's length and stuck her hand out. Combeferre shook it nervously. 

"Nice to meet you. Sorry my wife isn't here, she's out doing lawyer-ey stuff," She said, kindly. She had a very firm handshake.  


"It's fine. I'm sure she's a very lucky woman." Combeferre replied. "You have a very lovely home." Suzette released his hand with a flattered smile. At that moment, a small child thundered down the stairs and threw herself at Courfeyrac, who had untangled himself from Combeferre and crouched down.  


"Cooth!" She cried into his shoulder. Combeferre felt an odd twinging sensation in his chest. He should probably get that checked out.  


"Hello baby girl! Did you miss me?" The little girl nodded fiercely, sending dirty blonde strands of hair flying around her head. She noticed the ribbon around Courfeyrac's arm.  


"Wha's this?" She asked, poking it with one tiny finger.  


"That," Courfeyrac said gently. "Is a very special gift my new friend gave to me. Say hi to Combeferre." He turned around so they were both facing him. "Combeferre, this is my little sister Emily." Emily grinned and waved. Combeferre waved back- it was more of a finger flex and a vague upward motion- and quietly said 'hello'. Emily patted Courfeyrac's shoulder and he let her down. She toddled over to Combeferre, who felt a sudden and inexplicable sense of panic. He liked kids, he was good with kids, there was no reason to be afraid. She stopped at his feet, hands on her hips, surveying him like an unfamiliar object, which he guessed he was. Combeferre shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do. Did she want to be picked up?  


"You're big." She said finally. "Even bigger than Cooth." She couldn't quite pronounce her F's and Combeferre would have gently corrected her if he wasn't so nervous. She seemed to be waiting for him to speak.  


"Uh, yes that is, yes. I am." He stuttered. Emily nodded.  


"That means you're gonna pr'tect 'im, right?" She asked. Combeferre could see a bright future for her as a homocide cop, or maybe a therapist. He looked up at Suzette and Courfeyrac for guidance, but they looked too enthralled in what was happening to be much help. They were both grinning happily, though Suzette would briefly switch focus back to her laptop occasionally, and Courfeyrac was squishing his face with his palms.  


Combeferre was sure the situation was adorable, but it's very stressful to be interrogated by a four year old.  


"Well?" Emily said, losing patience.  


"Um, yes," Combeferre said. She nodded again.  


"Good. 'Cause ith he gots hurt, someone's gonna pay. And it won't be mommy or Cooth." She struck her own palm with a fist for emphasis. "It's going to be you," She clarified, in case Combeferre didn't understand her surprisingly mature threat.  


"Yes, I will definitely keep that in mind," Combeferre said. Emily nodded and ran to join her mother, who was still grinning and had her hand on her cheek, on the couch. Courfeyrac made an odd gurgling noise.  


"That was adorable," He squeaked at last. He shook himself to gain composure and turned around to face his mother and little sister. "We're going to watch a movie in my room, see you in a bit." Courfeyrac led him down a hall, ignoring Emily's pleas to join him and Suzette's wink and wishes to "be safe". He opened a door at the end of the hallway, ushering Combeferre in first and locked the door behind them.  


The only light in the room came from the windows, giving the room a dim, gentle lighting. The walls and floor had burns and holes all over, marring the once blue paint. Almost all of the furniture had been pushed off to one side, blocking the bed and rendering it almost unusable. Curled up by the other wall, blocking a doorway, was an enormous red reptile. The dragon looked like a mix between an iguana and a snake, except much, much bigger, and with wings. It was a deep, bloody crimson color, with orange belly scales and large claws that started red at the base and faded to black at the tips. It's wings looked too large for its body, only half folded with one resting on top of the TV across the room. The dragon watched him with narrow golden eyes. Breathless, Combeferre stepped off of the stairs and toward the dragon. He took three steps before being met with a hiss and a hand grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him back.  


"Be careful!" Courfeyrac hissed, almost as fiercely as his dragon. "She's shy, she might burn you."  


"She's beautiful," Combeferre said softly. "What's her name?"  


"Doesn't have one yet," Courfeyrac admitted. He walked in front of Combeferre, put his hand out to signal him to stay, and slowly approached the dragon, cooing soft words of assurance. The dragon chirped and clicked, occasionally looking back at Combeferre. "Oh, I'm sorry I left you baby, and then I brought a stranger back home," Courfeyrac soothed, as if talking to an anxious cat and not an enormous winged reptile. The dragon settled her head into Courfeyrac's arms and he beckoned Combeferre to come closer. Combeferre approached slowly, taking pauses every few steps as the dragon eyed him warily. He took his place beside Courfeyrac as he continued to coo at the dragon. The dragon reached out and sniffed Combeferre, a large, narrow forked tongue peeking out of her mouth. She snorted and a gust of hot air settled over him.  


"She likes you!" Courfeyrac whispered happily. "Or at least tolerates you. Either one would be good." Combeferre nodded. "So do you wanna help name her? I can't call her Dragon forever." Combeferre considered this.  


"How about Scarlatina?" He suggested. Courfeyrac nodded contemplatively.  


"I like it, I like it," He mused. "What's it mean?"  


"It's an old term for scarlet fever," Combeferre replied. _'Fuck, why did I say that? Sure, just casually tell someone you barely know to name their dragon, that barely likes you, after a deadly disease, good job.'_ Combeferre thought, feeling awkward.  


"Ooh, cool," He replied. Combeferre let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His friend scratched his dragon- Scarlatina- on her scaly head. "Do you like it?" Scarlatina made a noise vaguely resembling a purr. "She likes it!"

\-----

Courfeyrac looked up at the sound of the doorbell. He handed his 3DS to Emily and told her to take care of his Pokemon, then went to answer the door. Combeferre stood outside the door with a dull blue backpack slung over one shoulder. He was only wearing a thing grey cardigan over a bright green t-shirt with some kind of design covered by the sweater. He was shivering and hugging himself but smiling.  


"Oh my god," Courfeyrac said, feigning annoyance with a smile as he reached out for him. "Get in here before you freeze."  


"Hi Frerre!" Emily called from the couch. He waved in response as he followed Courfeyrac.  


"Knock on the door if you need anything," He told Emily. "And don't let anyone but mama, mommy, and Cecile-Marie in,"  


"Okaaaayyyy," She replied. "Go play with your friiieeend," Courfeyrac covered his face and hoped he wasn't blushing too much as he led Combeferre to his room in the basement. They descended about halfway down the stairs before stopping. Scarlatina almost completely filled the room at this point. Courfeyrac had moved all of his furniture upstairs, leaving only a few blankets scrunched in the corner. Combeferre dropped his backpack to the ground, pulling out several packages of steak. Scarlatina shuffled eagerly, her scales scraping against the wall. He ripped the meat out of its package and threw it into the room, where Scarlatina caught it with a snap. He threw the other four packages the same way.  


"What are you going to do with her?" Combeferre asked. "She's too big for your basement, and you can't tell your parents can you?"  


"I could, I just don't want to deal with that sort of thing. I'm sure they'd be supportive, a bit disappointed or scared, but supportive." He replied. "I have a friend with an old summer home their parents gave them. They live with their boyfriend now, and it has plenty of space, and I explained my situation and they said it'd be fine if I lived there with Scarlatina," He said in rapid fire succession. He took a deep breath. "My moms know I've been meaning to move out to go to university, so it's slightly less suspicious."  


"Okay, but," Combeferre looked up the stairs and back at Scarlatina. "How are we going to fit her through the door." It was a statement, not a question. Courfeyrac waved his hand dismissively.  


"As soon as I got my first boyfriend, my moms and older siblings basically showered me in lube. I've got an industrial sized bottle of lube, it's like a gallon and a half big." Combeferre snorted and turned away, shoulders shaking in what Courfeyrac hoped was laughter. "So, uh, yeah. Hopefully that works." There was a knock at the door.  


"Courf, there's a man at the door. I didn't open it though." Emily's voice echoed through the door, sounding proud. Courfeyrac ascended the stairs, Combeferre following close behind him.  


"Good job Em, I knew I could trust you," Courfeyrac praised her as he opened the door, just wide enough to squeeze through. Combeferre squeezed out behind him, shutting the basement door as Courfeyrac opened the front door. Standing on the door step was an elegant, lithe, but masculine looking boy with long purple hair with small , colorful wildflowers braided in, a light green shirt and grey plaid blazer, and a long white and blue flower patterned skirt. They were also wearing black heels with glitter and rhinestones and little masquerade masks on the toes. Courfeyrac fought the urge to shield his eyes or cry at his friend's awful fashion sense as he hugged them. "Hey Jehan!"  


"Hey Courf!" He stopped hugging Jehan and gestured at Combeferre and Emily. "Jehan, this is my little sister Emily and my new friend Combeferre." Jehan smiled and nodded. "Emily and Combeferre, this is Jehan, they prefer they/them pronouns."  


"Why are you wearing a skirt?" Emily asked. Jehan walked a few steps closer and crouched down so they were more level with her.  


"I'm wearing it because I like it. Skirts aren't just for girls, just like how pants aren't just for boys. Does that make sense?" They said in a soft, gentle voice. Emily nodded and ran back to the couch, now uninterested in Jehan's skirt. Courfeyrac led them back to the basement.  


"You didn't have to follow me," He whispered to Combeferre.  


"I got nervous. I didn't want to be left alone in your house," He replied. Courfeyrac nodded in understanding. Jehan gasped softly when they saw Scarlatina.  


"Is that her?" They whispered reverently. Courfeyrac hummed in affirmation. Jehan leaned over his shoulder, holding his hand out. Scarlatina reached up and sniffed their hand, nostrils flaring and tongue flickering. She nuzzled their hand with her snout. Jehan made a soft, squeaking noise of adoration. Scarlatina pulled away with a satisfied chirp.  


"So how are we moving her?" Combeferre asked. "She's not exactly inconspicuous."  


"I have a friend who used to work for a moving company. They gave one of their old vans to him to fix and he never gave it back." Jehan replied. "As long as she doesn't grow up any more, she should fit."  


"If we move her by the end of the week, we shouldn't have a problem." Combeferre stated.  


"Perfect! We'll move her by the end of the week. Friday or Saturday's good, right?"

\-----

Combeferre watched his phone all week. Courfeyrac had promised to text him the day he started moving to Jehan's old cabin. His roommate rolled his eyes fondly.  


"Could you be anymore smitten?" Enjolras teased. "I could recommend a good restaurant for a first date."  


"Don't you have studying to do?" Combeferre teased back. "And I am not being smitten, I am being an attentive friend." Enjolras looked at him like the camera in The Office.  


"Combeferre," He deadpanned. "I have seen you being attentive and I have seen you being obsessively interested in things, and this is leaning far closer to the latter."  


"I'm not obsessed," Combeferre protested.  


"No, but you are close to that territory," His blonde friend replied. "Now, I have finals to study for. See you... eventually." Combeferre shook his head fondly and went back to reading and occasionally glancing at his phone. Courfeyrac texted him around ten on Friday.  


 _Courfeyrac: hey!_  
Courfeyrac: its time to move!  
Courfeyrac: i got everything packed, i just need someone to help move some 'special' items  
Courfeyrac: ;)

\-----

The moving van was more of a moving truck, a giant eighteen wheeler with holes in the sides. Courfeyrac had no idea how you could forget giving that to someone.  


"For the record," The driver, who called himself R, said. "I think this idea is stupid."  


"R, hush," Jehan scolded him gently. "Is Combeferre coming?"  


"Yeah he texted me not too long ago," Courfeyrac replied. "He'll be here in like ten minutes."  


They started working as soon as Combeferre arrived, lubing up the front and basement doors. It took almost an hour just to get Scarlatina out of the basement. Not because she was being difficult, but because the doorway was quite narrow. The front door was much less narrow and it was easy to get Scarlatina to get in the truck, which was backed up to the front step. No one really wanted to mention how conspicuous and illegal this looked, mostly because they just wanted it to be over. Eventually, they were able to close the door on Scarlatina, who happily gorged herself on the sedative laced meats inside. When they were done, they all expressed varying degrees of exhaustion. Jehan lowered themselves onto the ground, bright pink polka dotted hoodie and yellow jeans standing out against the neat green grass. Combeferre leaned against the truck and sighed heavily. Courfeyrac crumpled to the ground with a loud whine. They stayed there for a few moments before R cut in.  


"Do I have to help with the boxes and shit?"  


"Yes."  


"Absolutely."  


"Of course."  


"God damn it."

It took another two and a half hours to get all of Courfeyrac's boxes in his and Combeferre's cars, even with two extra arms to help. Combeferre grunted a greeting to Courfeyrac's eldest little sister, Cecile-Marie, as he carried several boxes from the house to the car. Emily and Suzette came home fourty-five minutes later. The moving crew were all sitting or laying down, shivering yet sweating in the cold, relieved that they were finished.  


"You look like you've been working hard," Suzette said, looking down at her son laying on the grass. Emily threw herself onto his stomach and he wheezed, nodding in agreement. "Do you really need such a big moving van though?"  


"No," Courfeyrac replied. "R came over prepared."  


"No such thing," R countered. "I'm Grantaire, but everyone calls me R, like the letter. I'd shake your hand, but I can't feel my limbs anymore."  


"Hi R," Emily said.  


"It looks like all your stuff is barely fitting," Suzette observed, looking at the cars. "I'm sure it'd fit better in the truck. Why didn't you put it there?"  


"Spite," Suzette felt this reason was as acceptable as any. R took the truck soon after, politely declining Suzette's invitation to come inside. The rest of them dragged themselves inside and fell asleep in the recently cleared out basement.

\-----

Combeferre woke up alone in the basement with Jehan, Courfeyrac nowhere in sight. He took a moment to register his surroundings before standing up and climbing the stairs. He opened the door and walked out of the hallway to see a tall black woman hugging Courfeyrac, on the verge of tears.  


"I'll miss you, baby,"  


"I'll miss you too, mom,"  


"You'll call right?"  


"Of course."  


"I love you,"  


"I love you too," After a few more seconds of hugging, they pulled apart. The tall woman wiped her eyes. She saw Combeferre and walked over to him, smiling.  


"You must be Combeferre," She said. She held out her hand and Combeferre shook it. "I'm Amelia de Courfeyrac, Courfeyrac's other mother. He gets his surname from me," She said proudly. "It's very nice to meet you."  


"It's nice to meet you too," He replied. _'Courfeyrac de Courfeyrac?'_ He thought, amused. Amelia didn't let go of his hand, rather she tightened her grip.  


"I understand my daughter has already made it clear we will not accept any funny business," She said, voice low and threatening. "But I would like to reiterate, if you so much as think about hurting my child, so help me God, I will make sure you never see the outside of a prison ever again."  


"Umm," Combeferre replied, wide eyed. Courfeyrac groaned.  


"Moooom, stop threatening everyone I bring home, Gooood, you're so embarrassing. Can we just eat now?" He whined.  


Dinner consisted of a small feast of Italian food from a local restaurant. Pizzas, pastas, stuffed breads that Combeferre couldn't name; it was all delicious. Conversation came easy to everyone, even Combeferre, a low, gentle roar that was warm and comforting in a way Combeferre had never experienced before.  
Jehan stumbled up from the basement sleepily, freezing outside the dining room door, trapped by fear of social faux pas. Amelia invited them over, much to their relief, insisting they repay their helpfulness with food. Even with seven hungry people, there were still a lot of leftovers, which Suzette and Amelia all but forced onto Courfeyrac. Jehan, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac left around seven, after another fifteen minutes of crying and hugging and goodbyes. Emily finally figured out that her big brother was leaving and clung to his leg, refusing to let go until Combeferre distracted her by creating mini fireworks in his hands and little moving animals made of light. Eventually, they were able to escape the de Courfeyrac/Lu household. Jehan and Courfeyrac in Courfeyrac's car and Combeferre in his own. Courfeyrac was worried about leaving one of them alone, but Combeferre felt much more comfortable driving alone.  


\-----

They drove for an hour and a half in the dark, Combeferre following Courfeyrac and Jehan out of the suburbs, onto a lonely highway, and eventually onto a dirt road. They stopped in front of a double story log cabin, with a balcony under several large windows. On the front step was a very grouchy, very cold looking Grantaire. He stormed over to Jehan as soon as they climbed out of the car.  


" ‘We'll b-be there by five, s-six at the latest,’ you s-said," He spat angrily. " ‘Just k-keep an eye on the d-dragon, we won't b-be too long,’ you said," Courfeyrac shuffled uncomfortably, looking guilty, and Jehan looked worried. Combeferre walked over, ready to intercede if needed.  


"How long have you been out here?" Jehan asked.  


"Since I arrived!"  


"You know where the key is, why didn't you go inside?" Grantaire looked like he had just been asked why water was wet; confused and slightly frustrated, with no good answer. He shuffled as if he were ashamed, though Jehan's question wasn't at all intended to be mean or judgmental in any way.  


"I d-didn't want to j-just barge into your house," He muttered.  


"Come on, let's go inside, you can yell at me there," Jehan said, firmly but gently guiding Grantaire to the door. They plucked a key out of the plant pot by the door, unlocking it and ushering everyone in.  


The log cabin opened into a cozy living room with green carpet and ugly plaid and leather furniture. Jehan pushed Grantaire onto a brown and red plaid couch and ran into the kitchen and started rummaging through cabinets. Combeferre sat beside Grantaire, who was still shivering and rubbing himself even in the warm cabin.  


"Let me see your fingers," He said gently. Grantaire held his hands out. They showed signs of mild frostbite, but should be fine as long as he got warm quickly. He took his fingers in his hands and focused on transferring heat to those areas.  


"Whoa, f-fire magic," Grantaire chattered. "Fucking awes-some." Courfeyrac sat on the other side of Grantaire, still looking worried. Once Combeferre was sure Grantaire would not lose his fingers, he let go off his hands and wrapped him in a blanket. Jehan came out with a mug of hot chocolate.  


"I might have made it a bit too hot," They admitted. "And I don't have milk or coffee creamer or anything. I forgot to go grocery shopping, all there is here is crackers, pasta sauce, and other canned stuff no one eats." They sat on the arm of the couch beside Courfeyrac.  


"Well, shit," Grantaire said, still slightly shivery. "I'm starving." Jehan got up and disappeared into the kitchen again and came out with a box of crackers, a can of tomato sauce, and a can opener.  


"Ugh, if I smell another tomato I might puke," Courfeyrac complained. Grantaire started shoveling crackers into his mouth.  


"I'll go get the boxes out of my car," Combeferre said, getting up. "I should probably get home, my roommate will wonder where I am. Courfeyrac jumped off the couch, almost knocking Jehan over.  


"You can't go!" He shouted. His face quickly turned embarrassed, like he hadn't meant to be so loud. "I mean, it's dark out and you're probably tired, I wouldn't want you to get in an accident," 'he's right,' Combeferre thought. 'I can barely keep my eyes open, I shouldn't be driving.'  


"You're right I should probably stay," He conceded. Courfeyrac's face lit up and he felt another odd twinge in his chest. He never did get that checked out, did he? Jehan chuckled and Grantaire coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like "sap".  


"Great! Then it's a sleepover," Courfeyrac exclaimed. "Jehan, let's get blankets and pillows and stuff," Jehan got up for what had to be the fifth time in ten minutes. Combeferre pulled out his phone and texted Enjolras.  


_Combeferre: Hey, I'm at Courf's right now and I'm staying the night, so don't get worried. Grantaire began to drink his hot chocolate as Enjolras replied back. ___  
 _Enjolras: alright. have fun, be safe_  
 _Enjolras: ;)_  


"Fuck you too," Combeferre muttered as he pocketed his phone.  


"Fuck who?" Courfeyrac asked. It might have been intended to be suggestive, but his voice was muffled by a small mountain's worth of blankets and pillows. He dropped them on the floor and Combeferre did a double take. He had forgotten the scar was there, he hadn't seen Courfeyrac with out the ribbon in so long. The scar shimmered slightly in the dim light.  


"His boyfriend," Grantaire replied wryly. For a split second, Courfeyrac looked like he had just seen a puppy get dropped off of a bridge.  


"He's not my boyfriend," Combeferre said quickly. "He's just my roommate." Courfeyrac let out a small sigh of relief that Jehan either didn't hear (unlikely) or chose not to acknowledge. They laid the blankets out and rolled up like burritos. Combeferre felt cozy and happy and wished he could have done this as a kid. He doubted it was half as much fun alone.  


When they were all settled in their blanket cocoons, Combeferre put his glasses on the floor beside him and asked "Courfeyrac de Courfeyrac?" and got a groan in response.  


"I know, it's so dumb and pretentious," He said, hands covering his face in embarrassment. "It was my grandfather's name, and his grandfather before that, and I swear if my kids name their child after me I will disown them, and stop laughing! Jehan you knew this shut the fuck up!" He threw a pillow at Grantaire who was laughing so hard he was wheezing. Combeferre was hiding his face in his pillows to muffle his giggles, to no avail, and Jehan sounded as if a hyena had possessed them. "You're all assholes,"  


"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Combeferre choked out. "But you just got so pissed," A large blue pillow nailed him in the side of the head. Combeferre looked at him and saw his face, red and split into a smile, peeking out of one hand, looking adorably flustered and oh god Enjolras was right.  


"Fuck all y'all," He said affectionately, but tiredly. "I'm going to sleep. Give me my pillows back." Combeferre tossed his over and buried his face back in his pillow. Looking back, he had no idea how he could be so daft. And, maybe he was just a little self-centered, but did Courfeyrac return his feelings? Maybe? Hopefully? Combeferre thumped his head against his pillow and sighed. He was too tired to deal with this emotional bullshit.

\-----

Courfeyrac woke up sore the next morning. He felt like his limbs had been crushed to bits and then put back together. He groaned and tried to lift himself, fighting the urge to cry out in pain. As he tried to get up, he discovered Combeferre had rolled over and flung and arm over his side in the night. He smiled and hefted his arm off of himself before walking out the back door. Scarlatina lay in a clearing; early sunlight reflected off of her scales and made her look like a living sunrise. Her head shot up at the sight of him and she clicked and chirped and thrust her head closer to him. He rubbed her snout and cooed to her.  


"Did you miss me? You miss me? I missed you, yes," He scratched her chin, and behind her ears, and in between her eyes, cooing all the while.  


"Dude, that's adorable," A voice sounded behind him. Courfeyrac turned around to see Grantaire standing by the door, blanket wrapped around his shoulders.  


"Do you want to pet her? She's less shy than she used to be," Courfeyrac invited. Grantaire shook his head.  


"Nah, I'd rather play it safe over here. Not that she couldn't scorch me from over there, but at least here I'll know it wasn't my fault."  


"Fair enough," Courfeyrac nodded in understanding. There was a pause before Grantaire began to speak again.  


"Why did she burn you? If you don't mind me asking anyway," Courfeyrac rubbed Scarlatina's nose absently.  


"I came down the stairs too fast and scared her," He answered. "She was really reactive back then. I can't believe it hasn't even been a month since she hatched." Grantaire nodded. There was another, longer pause.  


"There's a reason why they're illegal, you know," He said, quietly. Courfeyrac tensed up and stopped petting Scarlatina. He knew where this conversation was going. "They never stop growing, for one, and they eat enough to feed a small country. She flew off last night and caught a deer last night, but what happens when she can't find enough food?"  


"Are you trying to say she'll start eating people?" Courfeyrac snapped. "Because I think a deer would be just a bit more filling than a person."  


"Yes," Grantaire said. "But people are definitely easier to come by." He turned around to go inside. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, I'm just trying to say this won't be all fun and games and happy times."  


"Yeah," Courfeyrac said flatly. "Okay." The door closed with a dull thud. Courfeyrac sighed and laid his forehead against Scarlatina's. Grantaire was right, this was only going to get harder and harder. "What am I going to do with you, Tina?" He asked. Scarlatina chirped in response. 

\-----

Combeferre groaned as he heard the door open yet again. There was no way he was getting to sleep now. He groped for his glasses on the floor and put them on. Jehan and Grantaire were sipping hot chocolate in the kitchen and Courfeyrac flopped on the couch with a whine that may or may not have been exaggerated.  


"What's wrong?" He asked. Courfeyrac turned to face him.  


"I don't wanna move boxes." He explained. Combeferre nodded in understanding.  


"Well the sooner we do it, the sooner it's over with, right?" Courfeyrac whined again.  


They started moving the boxes as soon as Grantaire and Jehan finished their hot chocolate. They found the Italian leftovers from last night ("Whoops," Jehan said. Grantaire refused to look at them.) It took them over an hour just to dump all the boxes inside the house. Everyone was achy and tired and work was slow and full of complaints. They all flopped on the couch when they were done, leaning against each other. Courfeyrac ended up splayed against the other three, his head in Combeferre's lap. After a few minutes, Grantaire spoke.  


"Is anyone else hungry?" There was a chorus of mes.  


"Courf, it's your turn to cook," Jehan said.  


"Yeah, okay," He replied, rolling off of the three of them. He stumbled into the kitchen and didn't return for several minutes. He came out with several steaming boxes of food and plopped them on the table. They ate in comfortable silence; Combeferre, Grantaire, and Jehan on the couch, and Courfeyrac on the floor across the coffee table. They left shortly after eating, Combeferre driving home alone and Jehan and Grantaire leaving in the moving van. 

\-----

"Hey, Enjolras?" Combeferre called his friend across the room. Enjolras hummed in acknowledgement but didn't look up from his laptop. "How do you feel about the ban on dragons?" Enjolras looked up from his laptop with a raised eyebrow.  


"Why?"  


"Just curious." He responded. Enjolras thought for a few seconds before responding.  


"I think they're dangerous, volatile, and difficult to tame, and even more difficult to find space for. There are a lot of reasons why they're banned and I think they're all good ones." Combeferre hummed and nodded in response. "Please tell me you don't have a dragon," He pushed himself upright against the arm chair he was in.  


"What? No, no I don't have a dragon," Combeferre assured him. "If I did, you would know, because I'd never shut up about it," Enjolras surveyed him for a few seconds more.  


"Okay, fair enough," He said, going back to his laptop. Combeferre looked at the recent conversation between him and Courfeyrac.  
 _Courfeyrac: okay so_  
 _Courfeyrac: at what size is it considered unacceptable to hand feed my dragon_  
 _Courfeyrac: i mean scarlatina just bit me so i think now is a good time to not do that_  
 _Combeferre: Well, from a lawful perspective, you shouldn't be feeding a dragon at all._  
 _Combeferre: That was a joke, by the way._  
 _Courfeyrac: yeah i got that_  
 _Courfeyrac: but for real_  
 _Courfeyrac: i dont think tinas getting enough food_  
 _Courfeyrac: and i cant feed her myself anymore_  
 _Courfeyrac: and im really hoping this doesnt turn out like little shop of horrors_  
 _Combeferre sighed through his nose. He didn't have a lot of solutions for this problem. Really, he had only one solution, and he didn't like it. Courfeyrac wouldn't like it either._  
 _Combeferre: I think I have a solution, but you're not going to like it. Courfeyrac didn't respond for ten minutes._  
 _Courfeyrac: if its what i think it is then no i wont like it_  
 _Courfeyrac: but its the only real option we have unless we somehow get secret passage to australia_  
 _Courfeyrac: and all things considered its probably the kindest thing to do_  


\-----

Courfeyrac was sitting on the front step when Combeferre arrived. It was fairly early in the morning, around nine o' clock. He climbed out of his car with a book, a bottle of ink, and a calligraphy brush. Courfeyrac stood up.  


"Hey," He said.  


"Hey," Combeferre replied. "Did you already say goodbye?" Courfeyrac shook his head. "Did you want to stay with her while I did the sleep spell?" He nodded. "Okay." They walked around the cabin to the back, where Scarlatina was waiting.  


She was as long as a large jet airplane and probably taller, but she looked thin and miserable. Her scales were dull (Courfeyrac wondered, with a pang in his heart, if they'd ever been as shiny and beautiful as they could have) and her eyes sunken, thought they seemed to light up when Courfeyrac came near.  


"Hey baby girl," He said softly, petting her nose. He could have fit easily in one of her nostrils. "You remember Combeferre right? It's only been a couple weeks since you saw him," Combeferre put his hand out for Scarlatina to sniff. She sniffed him halfheartedly and he put his hand on her snout. Courfeyrac put his forehead against her cheek, his heart sinking in dread. "I love you, Scarlatina, I love you," He said, voice cracking. He began to cry, large, fat tears that slid down his face like waterfalls and sobs that lodged in his throat and constricted his breathing. After minutes that felt like hours, Combeferre touched, almost rubbed, his shoulder gently.  


"You have to stand back now," He said quietly. Courfeyrac kissed his beloved pet on the cheek and retreated to the back porch of the cabin, wiping his eyes the entire way.  


Combeferre painted sigils on Scarlatina's lifeless body, with ink that started out black, but glowed red when he touched it. He painted for over a quarter of an hour, glowing red runes stretching out in a long ring all around her body. Combeferre stood several yards away, close to Courfeyrac, and snapped.  


Scarlatina's body went up in an enormous, smokeless inferno. Courfeyrac could feel the heat beat against him and shielded his face from the abominable sight. The flame burnt out in less than ten minutes, leaving only ash.  
"It's over," Combeferre said, as if the return of cold air hadn't indicated that. Courfeyrac got up, took one look at the pile of ash, and turned around, letting loose a shuddering sob. Combeferre rubbed his shoulder and he pulled him into a hug, enjoying the warm, solid feel of someone pressed close to him. Combeferre hugged him back, continuing to rub his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while before Courfeyrac pulled away.  


"Thanks," He said.  


"It's fine. Are you okay?" Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac sighed.  


"Yeah, I think I just have to focus on something else now," He responded, his voice a little hollower than it usually was. "I'm going to watch a movie, and I'd like to have someone to talk to if I need it." Combeferre smiled warmly. "So, will you join me?" Courfeyrac finished weakly.  


"I'd love to," He said.  


"Great. Have you ever watched Rent?"  


"No. What's it about?" Courfeyrac led him inside, to the living room.  


"Think Friends, but with less middle class whiteness. Also singing." He replied, digging through a box by the couch. "Aha, found you."  


"Ooh, sounds good." Combeferre remarked, sitting on the couch. Courfeyrac put the movie in and joined him on the couch. They were mostly silent, except for a few chuckles.  
About halfway through the movie, Courfeyrac spoke again.  


"I have something to tell you," He said.  


"What is it?" Combeferre asked, diverting his attention from Maureen's artistic protest.  


"I kinda sorta have romantic feelings for you,"  


"Really?"  


"Yeah."  


"I kinda sorta have romantic feelings for you too."  


"Great. Wanna cuddle?"  


"Sure." Courfeyrac scooted closer to Combeferre and positioned himself so he could lay comfortably against his chest. Both of them were halfway lying down at this point. Maybe he was still numb from the day's events, but Courfeyrac felt like this was the easiest declaration of love he had ever done. 


End file.
